Priceless

Black capri sailor pants from Express: $60.00

Black strappy sandals from TJMaxx: $20.00

Black and white top from Vanity that is strategically revelealing: $25.00

Victoria's Secret Secret Embrace Push-Up Bra: $45.00

The look on the Elders Quorum Presidency sitting in a truck, tripping over themselves to be nice to me?:
PRICELESS.

A conversation I never thought I would have with my dad

Me: I appreciate mom's offer to come help me finish unpacking, but I don't want her to see that I have beer in my fridge.

Dad: You know, I love beer, I always have. I would be fine with just keeping some of the non-alcoholic kind on hand because I just like the taste. But she could not handle that.

The Real Deal

It's gut spilling time.

It seems silly at this point that Jer and I have been so hush hush about our personal lives. I mean it wasn't silly for a long time, but now, pretty much everyone knows, it's kind of a widely known secret, so why not make it public?

Jer and I have been seperated since the beginning of this year. I won't go into any details as to why, nor will I point fingers or place blame. I will always have a great deal of love and respect for him, he truly is one of the greatest human beings that I know. Both of us have been in a lot of therapy to help us get through this time, it hasn't been easy for either of us. Now you know the gist of my therapy posts.

Now to answer some FAQ's:

Divorce paperwork has not been filed yet. We want to come to a friendly agreement on the terms, to avoid mediation or a nasty court situation. We have been waiting for each of us to become stable enough to work through this amicably.

We sold our house, and have each moved into our own places. We have been doing a 50/50 custody arrangement with our girls. So far it is working, but we're always open to re-evaluation.

Speaking of the girls, they are fine. They are young enough that this won't cause huge trauma for them. They don't like it, but they're dealing with it in very healthy ways. They have a lot of love from each of us, as well as both sides of our families. They're getting plenty of support and have not been neglected in the slightest. I'm actually amazed at how well our families have pulled together in not only supporting us during these difficult times, but making the girls the #1 priority.

I have a kick ass family, and kick ass friends. I've had to lean on them A LOT during this time, and have been amazed at the show of support that I've had. Family and friends don't love this decision, but they love each of us as individuals. At the beginning of this I was afraid that I would lose frienships in the process, but my friends have only made their friendship more prevalent. And my family has only been more loving and supportive. I'm very lucky, I couldn't have made it through these times without them.

We have both dated other people since seperating. Neither of us had an affair.

I blame much of this on the mind fuck and mental rape I had from the church. Jer and I actually had an intense conversation about this, just this morning. I plan on blogging more about that as time goes on.

I'm still on somewhat of a hiatus, but I needed to get this out.

As the PR reps would say, Jer and I will appreciate our privacy at this time, but still need and want the friendship and support of friends, both cyberly and in real life. If you have questions, you can ask, but we may not answer. Don't feel like you need to walk on egg shells around us, you don't. Please don't ignore us becuase you feel awkward or don't know what to say. We need you.

And now you know the truth.

Ethnocentric Darkness and the Postmodernity of Orgasmic Penetration in Christy's Following my Energy

Warning: The following writing is self indulgent. Hell, who am I kidding? This entire blog is self indulgent, that's why I started it.

How do you like my title? I need to give nods to my super fantastic friend Meg Slate, she pointed me in the direction of a title generator. I shall never have boring titles again!


I'm going to blog about the therapy appointment I had today. I feel so very fortunate with this therapist that I found, and hope that in sharing some of what I'm learning, I can help other people.

Today, my therapist told me to follow my energy. Since leaving mormonism, I no longer have any kind of spiritual guidance. In place of that, I have become too needy and dependant on other people. I have, in a sense, made other people to be my "gods", and have given them my core. It's either created a great imbalance for me, or else I've stagnated. Regardless, I need to work on centering my core within myself.

I am an extrovert. Any of you who know me in real life can say "duh!" to that. I get my energy by being around other people. I feel most alive when I come to work first thing in the morning and cheefully say "Good Morning!" to my co-workers. When I'm alone, I don't know what to do with myself. I don't really like who I am. I feel lazy and boring. I can look back on my life and count on one hand how many times I have truly enjoyed an evening to myself. So, I need to work on that. I need to love myself, and be at peace with me. Not to the point where I shy away and become reclusive, but I need to accept myself for who I am.

I discovered that I feel like a fraud. I feel like people get to know me and are attracted to my outgoing, positive, confident, friendly nature, but I'm afraid the novelty of that will wear off and people will see that I really am insecure and unaware. This causes me to shy away and possibly damage potential relationships and friendships. Granted, I do believe that I am authentic, I don't think that I intentionally put on a facade for people, I just fear that they think I am. If that makes any sense at all!

She gave me two sheets of prompts for writing assignments, as I wrote about here, and I love that. Blogging is fun and theraputic and all, but these are meant to be intensely private, provoking questions. If anyone would like some of these I'd be happy to share, but I'd rather do that in email, or a more private setting.

Her next assignment for me is to give myself 10 minutes every day, where I sit alone where I won't be interrupted. Also, set a timer so that I don't have to think about the time while I'm there, but I won't lose track of it, either. She said that for 10 minutes, I am to just sit and let my feelings bottom out. Just let myself think or feel however it is that I'm feeling at that moment... don't try to supress anything. Whether it's sadness, anger, happiness, frustration, anxiety, etc. This sounds very interesting, and I look forward to seeing how this helps me.

I don't have another appointment with her until the 30th... ugh, that seems like such a long time!

Thanks for reading. Sorry that the contents of this post weren't as orgasmic as my title! :)

Oops, I originally published this without a title!

It's been two years since I admitted to myself that I no longer believed in mormonism. The doubts and questions were there for at least two years prior, but it was two years ago this month that I officially stopped paying tithing and said "Joseph Smith is full of shit!"

At this same time I found The DAMU, (although my preference is now the new and improved New DAMU AKA FLAK), and soon after that I found a non-advertised underground DAMUU that I would link to, but I think they like it small and want to keep their privacy.

The owner of the board at that time was Voodew (who has posted comments to this very blog from time to time!). Voodew was trying to get some new posts going on the board so he gave us all thread assigments. Mine was something to the effect of "I may have left mormonism behind but I still act like one in these ways...."

My response was along the lines that I was worried about lightning striking since I recently stopped paying tithing (lightning did strike, my entire department was layed off within a few months. Then I ended up with a great promotion within the same company immediately after!). My other sentiments were that I was always wondering what I could do to help others. Mormonism was all about serving everyone, sacrificing yourself, give give give, go go go, collapse at the end of the day, wake up and do it all over again. You can never give enough.

Nurturing is natural for me. It is innate for me to want to take care of and rescue people. There is nothing wrong with assisting or helping others, but not at the risk of losing myself. Mormonism made me feel that if I did what I wanted to do for me, I was selfish and self-serving. I am in the process of breaking that cycle!

It's no surprise to some of my blog readers that I'm in therapy, although it may be a surprise to others. I had been seeing a therapist who wasn't really clicking with me. At my wits end I called the place that I have to go through for insurance purposes, and demanded someone different. I saw a woman yesterday who provided an amazing sense of clarity for me, and who really understood where I was coming from and very intune to what I need help with. For so long I have done what other people want me to do or think I should do, so I'm being introspective and yes... some may call it selfish. It's impossible for me to grow and thrive if I'm depending on everyone around me being okay, in order for me to be okay.

So, that's where I am right now. I've been going through some tough shit lately, a bunch of stuff that I don't want to blog about. I have neglected responding to all of my blog comments, because I simply haven't had the energy. Thanks to everyone who continues to read and respond... each time I get a message in my inbox saying that I have a new response, I get a little excited. No need to worry about me, I'm going to be just fine. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and I am going full steam ahead.

Missed opportunities

One of my reasons for disaffection was the fact that I never had any spectacular spiritual moments. I had moments that seemed spiritual, but even as a true believer in the church, I could never reconcile the fact that I had a certain blessing was because I was mormon. If that were the case, then I may as well thank god for being white and rich (globally speaking).

I started thinking about this because recently, I found my patriarchal blessing re-read it. It was rather generic, relatively speaking. I got it when I was very young, and to be completely honest, I wanted it more as a way to tell my future than anything. I was 14 at the time and I wanted to know if I was going to get married and have kids and live to see the second coming. I could have cared less what my lineage was... of course it was Elijah, I was white and American! I did what every young girl is supposed to do before her blessing... I prayed, I fasted, I read the scriptures, I wanted this to happen! Then my best friend in my ward wanted it too, so she scheduled her appointment for a week after mine. I remember going to my blessing and really trying hard to feel spiritual and impressed, but perhaps I had built it up in my head a little too much? Looking back, it was anticlitmatic. After my friend had her blessing she called me to talk about it. We were best friends so of course we could reveal all to each other! Her blessing was practically the same as mine, verbatim. At the time I thought... "huh. Either we're very close, or the patriarchal blessing is a crock". I wasn't best friends with this girl much longer after that, so there goes my first theory.

This got me to thinking about other moments that were supposed to be spiritual but weren't. Not in any specific order other than what comes to my brain first:

Frankfurt temple dedication. I remember the date, it was August 30 1987. The day before my first day of 7th grade. My parents were invited to the celestial room for the dedication, so my sister and I went with my bishop and his wife to one of the other viewing rooms. I still don't understand why my parents were invited to the celestial room and my bishop wasn't. My mom was the stake relief society president, but this other dude was the bishop! He's since revealed that he's gay and is out of the church, but still... it doesn't make sense. I was excited for this- my first temple dedication! It was going to be amazing and spiritual and... why is that old man in the back of the room clearing his throat constantly? Why do I have to wave this stupid handkerchief? I feel silly! This isn't spiritual! What's wrong with me?

Baptisms for the dead. I had heard urband ledgends of people who did baptisms and had visions of those they were doing work for. Never happened for me. Could it be because I was always more interested in where we were going for dinner afterwards or what boys would be in the same car as me on the way home? I dunno, maybe. Still, I felt like there was something wrong with me.

Taking my own endowments out. It wasn't so bad, not terribly freaky or anything. It was weird seeing my friends and family in those weird outfits, acting like everything was normal. Afterwards I had a disagreement with my husband to be and didn't speak to him for several hours. My dad told me about the blood atonments on the way home. (my dad was a non believer all this time... he was trying to give me hints that I didn't catch on to) It was all just "okay". Nothing groudbreaking or spiritual like I had hoped.

Being sealed in the temple. I haven't a clue what was said. I barely remember who was there. I couldn't wear my own dress because it was too low-cut and not completely white. My husbands cousin invited her friend who was doing a session with her at the temple earlier that morning, I think it was a mission companion or something. That pissed me off.

I did have one moment that was spiritual, and that's it. After being home from the hospital with newborn twins for about 4 hours, my reality set in. I cried. And I cried and I cried. For about 36 hours straight, I cried. I finally told my husband to call around and see who could give me a blessing. It was the day after thanksgiving so I suppose we were lucky to get anyone at all, but we ended up with our bishop and good friend from down the street. Not too shabby. We each had blessings, and talked to them for a bit. After they left, we both felt like a huge burden was lifted. When we were figuring out how we felt about the church, this was the one thing that kept us thinking that maybe we should stay. Then I got to thinking, how stupid is that! Yes we felt something that night, but why would god lift my burden just because I knew to ask for a blessing? If there is a god, then no matter what their faith or how they've been taught to believe, he's going to help them out when they need it. That, and I think it helped us to talk to other people who had been through the new parenting process. That, and the next day my sister brought over some of her leftover prozac which held me over until I could get my own prescription.

I have had some moments where I felt enlightenment and spirituality where it wasn't expected. They are:

My first U2 concert. And the 2 other U2 concerts I went to that year were on par.
Walking in Murren, Switzerland. Wry Catcher knows exactly what I'm talking about here!
Finding meaning in an episode of scrubs. This happens whenever it airs.
Overcoming paralyzing fears. I've come a long way, baby!
Re-connecting with close friends that I haven't spoken to in far too long. There's something about a genuine connection to your past.
Finding out that I had more in common with my siblings than I thought. And realizing that I like them, apart from loving them because I have to.

Just to name a few.

More fun than should be allowed

I found this a few years ago, and every year I get such a kick out of it... you should too! Holiday Snowglobe

I suck at the blog updating lately! Not that I think anyone is on pins and needles just waiting to find out what happens in my oh-so-boring (yet terribly exciting) life. But if I don't continue to update, you won't continue to come back and read and respond, then what will happen to our sEXMObile created by Gluby?


Last night we went to Jer's family Christmas party. First time I've seen most of his extended family since announcing our exodus more than a year ago. We couldn't go to the party last year because it fell on the same night as the U2 concert, and I have priorities. I was still greeted kindly and hugged by everyone, but I think most of them didn't know what to do with me beyond that. I did my best to not only look great, but be happy the entire time.

Yesterday my daughter Emilie was asking about her nipples, and we got to talking about how all mammals have nipples. Then she said "Does Santa Clause have nipples?" I couldn't contain my laughter at this point- that's an image I've not ever thought of. "Yes Emilie, Santa Clause has nipples too!" After she thought about that for a minute, she said "Well are they really big nipples?"

I tried doing a google image search for a Santa Clause with nipples and couldn't come up with anything. My photoshop abilities do not rock. So here's my request for those of you with the mad photoshop skillz- create an image of Santa Clause with nipples for me? And NOT Mrs. Santa Clause. I want the old jolly fat guy. Pete or Gluby, I'm leaving this in your very capable hands.

It's all about picking your battles

Last summer, my mom had what we think is a nervous breakdown. My dad announced to her about 3 years ago, that after 40 years of marriage, he has never believed in the church. My mom is what some might call a church addict. She's struggled with serious depression ever since, although she never let on to what she was going through. She always put on a happy face and tried to ignore the feelings. Last spring, I told her that I didn't believe in mormonism anymore, and would no longer be practicing, nor would I raise my children that way. Again, she put on a happy face and said "Only you know what the best path in life is!" and the discussion was over.

Back to the nervous breakdown. It's a really long story and I won't get into the details, but the nuts and bolts of it is that one day she started speaking really strangely, saying very odd things, and she actually sounded drunk. Her speech was slurred, she wasn't making any sense. Her body was uncontrollabley shaking, and she was hearing voices and seeing spots. After a few calls to her doctor, my dad was advised to take her to the emergency room.

To wind this up, she was put through several tests, given all sorts of medications, and her doctors were baffled. I witnessed everything first hand, and I know she wasn't faking any of it. Ever since then, I've been unconsciously detaching myself from the situation. I want to be there for her, but I don't know how to act or what to say in her presence. She's still not herself, and I'm doubtful that she ever will be herself again. She still says really odd things... for instance, after recently returning from my business trip to NYC, she said "So did you go to Florida, too?" Yeah, because it's a hop, skip, and a jump, right? This is not my mom. My mom is bright and intelligent and independant. She only has little moments that make me remember who she used to be.

Today my mom calls me and says "I found the most adorable Christmas book for the girls! It has two stories, one about how Santa knows what they're doing and loves them and gives them presents, then the other is the same story, but only it's about Jesus! Isn't that great? You still teach them about Jesus, don't you?" I hope you'll understand why I didn't have the heart to tell her no. I guess I'll let her read the girls the book when she gives it to them, then I'll put it on a shelf until it's eventually sent to the DI. (Deseret Industries... local thrift shop for you non Utahn or LDS folk)

Hell, I would have married Wanda!

*****!!!WARNING!!!*****

*****What is contained hereafter is talk about season 1 of Big Love. If you have not seen this, but have every desire to, DO NOT READ ANY MORE OF THIS POST!!!*****

*****SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT!!!*****


I finally finished watching Season 1 of Big Love.

WOW WOW WOW!!! I loved this series, and can't wait for more. I love how the HBO producers have such a knack for character development.

First thing's first. I loved the core women in this show. Everyone from Barb to Wanda to Bill's mom. I know that at first I had dislike towards Nikki, but that quickly changed. Hell, who doesn't love a woman who knows how to not only carry a washer out of her house, but fix it? I wonder if she will marry me??? I loved watching Nikki and the way she worked. I also loved Barb and Margie, for what each of their characters had to offer. I could easily see why Bill fell in love with each of them. And even though some of the wording or pronounciation was off "recoMEND", I still felt like so much of it was a nod to ex-mo's. There are so many things that you could only understand *AND* appreciate if you are a former mormon.

So, to summarize, I loved each character, and the developments they made throughout the story. Polygamy would be an extremely rough lifestyle, even if modernized, I couldn't really do it.

I do wonder about Barb, and what season 2 will bring. I hated that she was disqualified from the Mother of the Year award, that scene was rather heart breaking. I wonder what will turn out with Ben? I went from thinking that he had a thing for Margie, to thinking that he was possibly gay. And I think that Rhonda is a little Nikki in the making. The Alby character absolutely gave me the creeps, is it bad if I wanted him dead and loved Wanda for doing something to him?

Readers who have watched the show (and I know there are many of you), what say ye?

Make new friends, but keep the old

Yesterday I heard from a former college roommate of mine. I'll refer to her as Patsy, even though that's not her real name. If she reads this, she'll know I'm referring to her and what the reference is. She's the Patsy to my Eddie (From Ab Fab). Patsy was quite possibly the coolest roommate a girl could have, and the only roommate that I make any effort to keep in touch with... even though at times we go months or even years between speaking. She's good people.

Patsy's little sister found my myspace profile and sent it to her. I have not had the chance to talk to Patsy about my disaffection before, and I'm quite open about it on myspace-- even though I don't use myspace anymore, and only used it very little in the past.

Patsy called me yesterday and said "I ran across your myspace profile... what's up??" I gave a high level overview of what happened, and where we are now. I was a little scared to talk to her about it. Her first marriage was to a Jewish man and her family all but disowned her in the process. They went through a divorce, and she remarried in the temple to a liberal TBM. Six years ago she would have been the first person I would have called after I discovered the fraud, but I figured now she must have completely changed and I didn't want to make things weird between us.

We had a really great conversation, and I discovered that Patsy's been living the NOM (New Order Mormon) lifestyle, so I gave her a link to that board. This is how she keeps the peace with her parents and husband, but she has no problem enjoying a margarita or glass of wine. I know her parents quite well, and I completely understand and respect her decision. It was a huge relief to me to find out that she is the same person that I've always known and loved... not that I expected any different, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

Patsy and I have had some really good times together. There was the time we snuck out of our house to go to campus and participate in the "Rocky Horror Picture Show", because we knew our housemates wouldn't approve of our watching a rated R movie. There was also the time that we got 3 recent RM's to skinny dip with us in her parents swimming pool. She used to go with me to my music labs, and I would sit behind her in her 4 hour art classes to keep her company. She didn't care when I watched Melrose Place or 90210, and I got a kick out of watching Ghostbusters I & II with her on a weekly basis, while she quoted every.single.line.

She paid me the highest compliment... she said "When I found out about you, I was not shocked at all. You have always been so open minded and non-judgemental, so this is not surprising to me." She also made the comment that I was one of her only friends that didn't condemn her to hell when I found out she wasn't getting married in the temple.

Cheers to old friends! I gave Patsy a link to my blog... we'll see if she reads it! ;-)

It's Lyrics time... Is it Any Wonder?

I
I always thought that I knew
I'd always have the right to
Be living in the kingdom of the good and true
and so on

but now I think how I was wrong
And you were laughing along
And now I look a fool for thinking you were on, my side

Is it any wonder I'm tired
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right

Sometimes
It's hard to know where I stand
It's hard to know where I am
Well maybe it's a puzzle I don't understand

But sometimes
I get the feeling that I'm
Stranded in the wrong time
Where love is just a lyric in a children rhyme, a soundbite

Is it any wonder that I'm tired
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right
oh, these days
After all the misery you made
Is it any wonder that I feel afraid
Is it any wonder that I feel betrayed

Nothing left inside this old cathedral
Just the sad lonely spires
How do you make it right

Oh, but you try
Is it any wonder I'm tired
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right
oh, these days
After all the misery you made
Is it any wonder that I feel afraid
Is it any wonder that I feel betrayed

If I ruled the world

I grew up thinking that I was going to become a goddess of my own world, if I lived worthily enough. Every now and then I would think "When I get my own world, I'm going to do things this______ way".

Here are some things that I would do if I ruled my own world.

• Putting shoes on furniture would be an offense punishable by death. (I take my clean furniture seriously)
• Babies would sleep through the night from the get-go.
• Speaking of babies, you would have to fill out the proper paperwork and take certain classes before you're allowed to get pregnant. And pregnancy could be carried by either the man or the woman, whichever is more convenient.
• Orgasms would last longer.
• When you turn 35, you get the option of picking one year of your life to go back and live over, knowing then what you know now. When the year is over, you get a preview of what your life would be like if you did things differently, and then you can choose which of the years you want to keep in your memory bank.
• It would be possible to travel via apparation, floo powder, or portkey.

I reserve the right to add more to this list at a later time.

The best weekend ever

I'm kind of stealing this idea from "from the ashes", but I really was thinking about blogging about this before. Even though I already posted today, I figured I better get this down while I'm thinking about it.

Garments. I wore them faithfully for 7 years, with the exception of swimming, bathing, sex, etc. Looking back, I admit to looking down on others when it was obvious they weren't wearing their G's, when I knew they should. Blech, I hate thinking about that.

It was just after my 7th wedding anniversary that I had my epiphany about the church, and my husband soon followed. I live and work among many church goers, so I kept wearing my garments to keep up with appearances for a couple of months. One night I was working late, and found out that there were U2 tickets available for a concert in Anaheim the next week. Very spur of the moment, I called and got the OK from my husband, bought the tickets, booked the flight and hotel, and made babysitting arrangements.

Several things went wrong this weekend. Our bus driver couldn't find out hotel, so he dropped us off at a random location and pointed us in the wrong direction, and we had to walk forever with our bags. We ate at the worst restaurant and ordered our very first alcoholic beverages (even though I was in California, I still looked around to see if anyone noticed). The drinks were terrible. The food was terrible. To give you an idea how bad-- my lunch came with with a basket of rolls, which were nothing more than toasted hamburger buns. We had no transportation (other the the busses to/from the airport) and had to walk everywhere we went.

When we were getting ready to go to the concert, I decided that my shirt would probably look better if I didn't have bulky garments on underneath, so on the floor they went. I felt naughty, but in a very good way. During the performance of "Beautiful Day", there was a moment after Bono sang "After the flood, all the colors came out...." and the entire arena was lit up with different colored lights. I stood there feeling the most euphoric I've ever felt, not being medicated. That moment was more spiritual than any time I had ever been to the temple or sat in sacrament meeting. In that moment, my entire world and outlook shifted. The next day my husband and I talked about it, and he had the same feelings at the same time. It was unreal, and we just knew that from that moment forward, everything was headed up.

We spent the next day at Disney and flew home that night. We were exhausted, but excited about life. To top off our weekend of sin, my hubsand got his first ever Starbucks at the airport.

A year and a half later, the garments have completely disappeared from our household. I considered keeping one pair just to remember, but decided it wasn't worth it. We've had a lot more alcoholic beverages. We've consumed gallons of coffee. We saw U2 two more times in 2005. Things have never been better.

But most importantly, the garments are GONE.

Bunco

Tonight was my Bunco night. Ordinarily, living in SLC, you would think Bunco would be quite lame. But not with this group of women. Somehow, we managed to find 12 women in SLC who are either ex-mo's or nevermo's. I have no idea how that is possible, and it certainly wasn't planned that way. I guess it goes to show that SLC isn't as "mormony" as some would think. It was 12 women, drinking adult beverages and talking about breasts and vaginas. It's good times, I tell you!

Anway, tonight was fun because I was standing at the bar (oh yes, my friend in SLC has a bar in her basement-- when will the madness end??) talking on my phone, when in walks another woman. We stood there and looked at each other for about 30 seconds and simultaneously said "Don't I know you?" Turns out we went to high school together, and were in the same seminary class for 2 years. Both of us were such good girls back then, I distinctly remember some of the testimonies she bore. But, we didn't talk about church or mention the "mormon" word once. We were just normal, relaxed, and enjoyed our rum and cokes while catching up on the gossip of common friends.

I won the booby prize, which meant I was the biggest loser of the night. I seem to win that prize often. Leave it to me to always lose at a game that requires absolutely no skill or thought. That, in and of itself, takes skillz.

The World Is My Oyster Club

Now that I've shared my long and oh-so-boring disaffection story, I thought I'd tell you where I am at now, since my former world has long since crumbled down.

My husband and I joined the DAMU, mostly the AIMOO boards such as NOM and The View From the Foyer. We also joined Cherry, but that's not really part of the DAMU. For those who are unaware, DAMU stands for "DisAffected Mormon Underground". We started posting on the boards extremely anonymously. We used fake names with new email addy's to join. We wanted to remain as undercover as possible. We started getting to know some people, and little by little we began to reveal ourselves more and more. I was finally relaxed about using my real name and picture once I came out to my mom.

After our faith crumbled, and we were over the shocked part, we started our own paths of re-discovery. I won't speak about what happened to my husband as that's his story to tell, so I'll just make this all about me. I started learning who I was, what values I stood for, and what I wanted to accomplish and do with my life. I realized that I had been so lazy for so long, always relying on the magical mystery man in the sky to direct my paths. I no longer had someone to pray to when I was scared to drive in the snow. When my employer announced layoffs for my department, I couldn't assume that it was "his" will. I had to really find myself. And I got through some bad snowstorms, based on a competent car and driving ability. I learned to shine my resume and find another job without dwelling on the negatives (might I add, I got a kick-ass promotion with a lot more money out of the deal... so much for not paying tithing!). It sounds cliche, but I really learned to depend on me. I found strengths that I didn't know existed. I learned that I needed to figure out my own boundaries and comfort levels with many of lifes situations. I no longer had anything telling me what was okay and what was not okay, not even what underwear I had to put on each morning!

While living in Utah does have its drawbacks, it certainly has it's perks as well, more specifically with the local ex-mo's. And the fact that several non local ex-mo's have reasons to visit Utah has been the icing on the cake. I have met the most brilliant, kind, generous, and fun people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am amazed at how normal and fascinating these people are. The friendships I've made are authentic and what I always hoped for, but never received in mormon culture.

One of my friends, Brandon, sent out an email to a bunch of the locals one night. Brandon is very philosphical with fantastic deep thoughts, you can't not love Brandon. Brandon closed his email with saying something to the effect of "It's a pleasure to be in this 'World Is My Oyster' club with all of you, the possibilities are endless. Goodnight"

Now I feel mostly recovered (I still have rare bouts of post mormon anger), and in love with life. I try to take advantage of all learning opportunities that I can, and make each moment count. Life is too short to waste on regrets and what ifs.

My disaffection story

I stopped going to church approximately 16 months ago. I have not officially resigned, and as of now there are no immediate plans to do so. I always figured I would do it if I felt a need, but for now, my ward and family has been pretty respectful of our wishes to be left alone. I've never written my disaffection story before, and in talking to a friend, I realized it might be a good idea to put it on my blog then I can point people here if they're ever interested in knowing my story.

Grab a snack, this could take awhile.

I was BIC, and raised by two devout parents. While we always went to church on sundays, had callings, prayed before meals and bed, we were never totally TBM. We were, but rated R movies were okay once I was old enough, we would run to the grocery store on sundays, had diet coke aplenty in our house. So I guess we were the shades of gray type of sinners. I am the youngest of 5 children, and one by one, all of my older siblings apostasized by the time they were 21. I held on, mostly for my parents sake (so they could have at least ONE "good" kid), and also because in high school, I was good friends with several kids whose fathers were General Authorities. I was surrounded by the goodie goodie types, but I am glad I did. I had some good experiences being friends with these people, and I really learned a lot. I dare say that this helped as I went further along the path of apostacy.

When I was 22 I was married in the Bountiful Temple. My husband was not an RM, but still the good churchy type of guy. For the first two years of our marriage our church attendance was off and on, then we got really active once we bought a house in an older neighborhood with a struggling ward.

The next few years is boring to talk about- we served hefty callings such as YW 1st councellor, EQ presidency, etc. By the time we left the church, I was in the primary presidency and he was the finance clerk. Both of us were extremely involved with our ward. We were there every week, and I mean every week. I think we missed 6 weeks in 6 years, and most of that was from materinity leave time. We really gave our all, made huge efforts and sacrifices and were living as we thought we should.

A few months after I had my twins, I was called to be a gospel doctrine teacher for the teenagers. I'm a pretty hip woman, and still relatively young. I remember what it's like to be a teenager and have always been able to relate to them well. But I was terrified of this calling. First of all, the lesson manuals are the same for 13 year olds as they are for 83 year olds so it was up to me to determine how to gear the lessons so that they would understand.

So for nearly two years, I taught this class. Everything was fine and dandy until I got the Book of Mormon manual. A lof of what I was told to teach didn't make sense, or seemed like a double standard, and I just never felt that "spirit" when I prepared my lessons. Plus sometimes the lessons would contratict each other, and that really annoyed me. I allowed myself to think "What if it's not true?" But I quickly put that thought away. So I asked my husband my burning questions. His answer to me was "Pray more. Have more faith. Read your scriptures more often. It will all work out". I figured he was right, and continued to carry on. I was finally fed up with teaching these teenagers (who would try to trip my toddlers when they were learning how to walk), so I got my guts together and told my bishop I needed to be released. I went about 2 weeks without a calling before I was called to teach primary. Okay, younger kids are a little easier to teach than teenagers, I could handle this. Plus the lessons were easier. I was okay with this calling.

Near the end of the Book of Mormon year our Bishop was visiting primary. The president asked him to tell us what a testimony must consist of. He said that first and foremost, we must believe in the Prophet Joseph Smith. My heart sunk when I heard that. I realized that after this year of teaching BOM lessons, I never had a testimony of Joseph Smith. In fact, something about him was creeping me out this whole time, I just never allowed myself to think about it.

The next few months are a bit of a haze. I went through the motions, very numb. I figured this is what was in store for the rest of my life. Not really believing, but not doing anything about my disbelief. One sunday morning, it was February's fast sunday, I was in a particularly bad mood. I was babysitting the daughter of my good friend- she and her husband were both presidents of different groups and both had to be at early morning ward counsel before church. I was writing out a hefty tithing check, and realizing that I was going to have to put a root canal on my credit card later that week. This thought pissed me off, it made no sense that I had to charge a necessity, yet give cash away to a church that already have PLENTY of cash. The meeting was running overtime and I had to take care of this baby instead of getting myself ready for church and preparing my lesson. Too many small things collided all at once and I had it. And I started griping to my husband, very loudly. The first presidency doesn't give a rats ass about our struggling ward (we live in SLC, and everyone in our ward had 2 or 3 callings each), why am I giving money to this chuch and going into debt for a root canal and crown? I'm tired, I'm exhaused. I had to go to church, then come home alone and take care of my young kids while my husband stayed after for several hours for meetings and counting the tithing. And I don't even really believe in this church, I'm only doing this so that I don't disappoint my parents! At this point my husband stood up and looked at me and said "It's fine with me if you don't want to pay tithing. And quit worrying about your parents. I've been told not to tell you, but your dad doesn't believe anymore either!". I was gutted.

So I went to church that day with tears in my eyes the whole time. I didn't know what to do next. I had been given a link to an essay at Zarahemla city limits, by someone I knew off of an LDS parenting board. http://www.zarahemlacitylimits.com/iron_rod.htm This essay saved my sanity, I highly recommend reading it. Then I read more and more essays, and eventually found The View From The Foyer from there. My husband realized it was okay for him to question and research, and we spend the next two to three months reading everything we could. Eventually I had a talk with my dad, and he was thrilled to know of my choices. I talked to some of my older siblings who disaffected yeeeeeears prior, and they were great for support and giving me more places to research and things to know. I was shocked to learn about the Book of Abraham and Joseph Smith's polyandry. So many little things came out of the woodwork. For me, my disaffection wasn't one thing altogether, it was just all of the small little things that piled up and made it so I could no longer pretend.

For a few months I thought I would try to keep going to church for my mom's sake (I knew I would be a huge disappointment for her, since I was her last hope for eternity), and for a ward friend. Soon after, my friend moved. I was in the primary presidency at this point, and had to do a sharing time lesson on Joseph Smith (this was the year of the church history manual, after all). This made me physically ill. I sat there in primary realizing how much I hated this. I looked at my daughters who were sunbeams and sitting on the front row, and realized that they hated this, too. I figured now is a good time to walk away, they won't remember much about church and could care less if we continued to go. The next week I just didn't go to church, and neither did my husband. He did show up after the meetings to do his duties as finance clerk. Then after he transmitted the funds, he told the bishop that he needed to talk.

The bishop was shocked. We were 100%ers. We did everything we needed to do, and did it happily. The next day I sent a follow up letter that explained to the bishop that this was a joint decision, it was not hasty by any means, and we are at peace with this choice. He did call one time after this meeting, and asked if he could come visit us. I said no, I was no longer going to let him have this power over me. Since then he has stopped by our house once just to see how we were doing. My husband answered the door and said "We're great, thanks for checking in!" and that was it. We have since come out to our families, which were painful processes but liberating at the same time.

I bought myself a coffee maker as a reward for coming clean to all those who matter. This is why I need the DAMU, or post mormon community. Only they will understand the significance of my buying a coffee maker.

Hope for future generations

Yesterday my husband and I went to a baptism for our friends daughter. This was unlike any baptism I've ever been to. You see, in the LDS religion, children are baptized at the age of 8. This is considered "the age of accountability", and it's also widely believed that children are able to make this important decision on their own. Living in a community where the majority of neighbors and classmates are LDS, this can create a lot of peer-pressure, and a lot of sadness for a child who really wants to fit in with the crowd and be baptized, too.

So my friend had a brilliant idea (This is not a shocking thing, this friend of mine always has brilliant ideas, part of the reason why I love her so-- she has enough creativity for both of us). She decided to do her own baptism in her in-laws back yard. She sent the invitations out to friends and family. She wrote something akin to vows. She promised to love and nurture her daughter, and to support her in whatever path in live she chooses. There was a lot more to it than this. The entire speech was very moving, full of hope and love for the future. Her daughter requested that they splash water on her from a seashell as her form of baptism. It was a beautiful moment and I was honored to be a part of it. And now her daughter can tell her friends that she is baptized... only her baptism was much cooler and more fun than any of the others.